In the world of Delta Factor, one young woman fights a never-ending war with a remorseless enemy.
This humorous short fiction piece was inspired by a late night chat with a couple gamer friends about how alien cultures would possibly interpret some of the more "colorful" aspects of our society.
In a small inn (the more remote the better), a man turns up dead. There are no wounds on his body what-so-ever, and he aboslutely reeks of garlic.
The man died of a curse that forced him to eat a clove of garlic a day or suffer the penalty. This gets really interesting if the body somehow appears on top of a someone the villagers are suspcious of.